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<title>you can't outrun your dna (what's in your blood) by IncognitoDuck11</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722402">you can't outrun your dna (what's in your blood)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncognitoDuck11/pseuds/IncognitoDuck11'>IncognitoDuck11</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pretty Little Liars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Can be read as either Melissa &amp; Spencer or Charlotte &amp; Alison, Experimental Style, Gen, POV Second Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:21:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncognitoDuck11/pseuds/IncognitoDuck11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Her embrace is suffocating, with your chin tucked in the crook of her shoulder, pressed against soft, black fabric that only serves to remind you of what she's done.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alison DiLaurentis &amp; Charlotte DiLaurentis, Melissa Hastings &amp; Spencer Hastings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you can't outrun your dna (what's in your blood)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This can be read as either Charlotte and Alison or Melissa and Spencer. I couldn't decide, so I thought, "why not both?" lol</p>
<p>Title from "Who Are You?" by SVRCINA. Give it a listen while you read :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>-.-.-.-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her embrace is suffocating, with your chin tucked in the crook of her shoulder, pressed against soft, black fabric that only serves to remind you of what she's done. She cradles the back of your head gently with one hand, but has her other arm barred around the small of your back, trapping you in place. You squirm a little as the smell of expensive perfume invades your nose, makes your eyes water, and a kind of caged animal panic takes hold of you. It's like someone has pushed your head underwater, but your arms are frozen, floating at your sides because how are you supposed to react to such a betrayal? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” she insists, like that makes it okay, like words are the only thing necessary to calm you down. Like you're a baby and all she has to do is put a bottle in your mouth and rock you to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you so much,” she reiterates, almost like she's talking to herself. She hugs you tighter, possessively, and your throat clogs with fear. She sounds like she might slide a dagger between your ribs, sever your spinal cord, just so she can hold you like this for as long as she wants. You realize she's probably armed, and decide that resistance might get you killed. Better to placate her, make her think you've accepted her as she is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You try not to shiver as you tentatively wrap your arms around her back, rest your palms against the spaces beneath her shoulder blades. Her body feels willowy and feminine, but strong, steady, and unrelenting. Beside her you feel frail and weak. Small. She was always the better version of you. Older, smarter, more ruthless. You always tried to imitate what you perceived as strength in her, but now you realize that image is not what it seems. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You know the difference between cruelty and survival now. One is a choice. You had no choice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took that choice away from you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She buried a body for you, but watched as you writhed with uncertainty afterwards. Tortured you with the insistence that you’re a killer, mocked your terror, even though she knows it was her own mistake that killed that girl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She attacked you in your own home, kept you on the run, just to remind you where you stand. She tortured your friends for you, motivated by vengeance you never asked for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything is a competition to her; everything is a game to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there's no denying that she loves you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe you should say something, but there are no words, nothing to say to make this better. For once, you remain silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until you can't anymore. Until your head hurts from trying to make sense of this; until you can't contain your need for answers. But it's not the right thing, what you say. They’re dangerous, the words that finally tumble past your lips: </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Melissa?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charlotte… I don't understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your heart hammers beneath your rib cage at her tense silence, certain you've made a mistake. You think that maybe she can feel how fast that stupid piston in your chest is beating, and silently curse it for betraying you, exposing your terror. You can't afford to have any vulnerabilities so visible, not when you're in such close proximity to the blood-starved jaws of a wolf. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unexpectedly, she presses a kiss to the side of your head. It’s firm and desperate like a goodbye, but almost apologetic in its sincerity. It's cold comfort… because you expect that this is the Judas kiss and the next step is to have you crucified. Suddenly you feel like you might start begging for your life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears well in your eyes and your lungs spasm in the shape of a sob. She's still holding you, her lips still pressed against your skull like the hesitant tip of a knife. Finally she pulls back, grips your shoulders so she can hold you at a distance. Her eyes are dry yet sorrowful, and her face is all sharp angles and hard edges. Her lips are pursed in a stern line, her brow troubled. Her perfectly polished, sharp fingernails dig painfully into your deltoids. You don't like the ambiguity in her expression; what is she about to do to you? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” you find yourself whispering, saltwater cutting paths down your cheeks. A tiny gasp escapes your lips and you feel yourself shrinking under her gaze. You feel like such a stupid </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so goddamn naive for ever trusting her. “Don't–” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shushes you, cups a gentle hand under your chin, angling her head so she can look you in the eye better. “Hey, no, no, no…” she coos. “It's okay. You're my baby sister.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever that means</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hesitantly, you nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just close your eyes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No way in hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you think, but from her tone you know it's not exactly an optional request. You glance at the empty shadows of your bedroom, knowing there’s nobody home that can help you. Your phone sits on your nightstand a few feet away, and you know you can't get to it </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> dial 911 while fending her off. The cops would never get here in time anyway; you're almost certain there's a weapon in her hoodie pocket. You'll be a bloodless, lifeless corpse by the time they kick down the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” you demand, feeling your adrenaline spike, overwriting your fear. Your voice is hard as flint, but your lip quivers. “If you're going to kill me, just get it over with.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your sister just rolls her eyes. “Don't be so dramatic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Close your eyes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” You feel suddenly like the stubborn first grader that you were once upon a time, stamping your feet in protest of so many meaningless injustices, your mother’s face pinching with irritation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” she says decidedly, and your muscles tense in anticipation. “Have it your way, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She moves </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Too fast for you to react. You're just starting to turn away, instinctively choosing </span>
  <em>
    <span>flee</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight </span>
  </em>
  <span>because you know she has the advantage, when she grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It's a dirty move, and your knees buckle. You cry out, swinging an arm out in an attempt at shoving her off. Deftly, she side-steps you and wraps an arm around your neck, and you reach blindly behind you to try and claw her eyes out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A damp cloth presses over your mouth and nose, and you gag at the sickly sweet smell of it. Almost immediately, the pressure slips from your head, and your limbs start to feel heavy. You stop fighting, sagging back against her chest, and she supports your weight, lowers you gently to the floor. She cradles your head, still pressing the chloroform-soaked rag over your face. It's suffocating. Your eyelids flutter, darkness encroaching upon your vision, and she brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweet dreams." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You want to tell her to go to hell, but you're already slipping under.</span>
</p>
<p>-.-.-.-</p>
  </div></div>
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